


Lace-up courage

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Costumes, Couch Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 04:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10959246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Sansa knows her boyfriend, Jon Snow, isn't into costumes in the bedroom. But a girl needs to dress up sometime, and so Sansa surprises Jon with a new outfit. The moment evolves into something deeper and unexpected.





	Lace-up courage

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt by janebirken. Yet another one that started out as five sentences and got away from me. :)

Sansa was sure Jon was going to laugh at her.

He’d told her he “didn’t need costumes and plot lines” in the bedroom, after all, when they passed the light blue bustier and garter belt ensemble in the store window.

“You’re more than enough for me, beautiful girl,” he’d whispered in her ear as they crossed the street, and she knew she was lucky to have such a thoughtful, devoted boyfriend. 

But a girl wanted to get dressed up once in a while, and the lacy set had been on sale, so she’d gone back and bought it herself. 

Now she was fussing with her hair, trying it up, then down, then up again, examining herself in the bathroom mirror. She’d have to be quick. Jon would be home soon, and she wanted to look pretty enough that he couldn’t make fun of her–

 _Looks like it’s down around the shoulders,_ she thought as she heard his key in the lock. She raced to the living room with her heart in her throat. 

“Hey, honey, I...” Jon trailed off as Sansa met him at the door. Her bare feet were cold on the hardwood floor. She took a deep breath.

“So I know these aren’t your thing, but I wanted to wear one for you, I hope it’s not too silly, just a bit of a joke–“ She was speed-talking, like usual when she was nervous, and she would have kept going if Jon hadn’t captured her mouth with a hungry kiss. The full curve of his lips was so sensual it was almost sinful. 

He didn’t even stop to take his coat off as he walked her backwards to the couch. They narrowly missed the coffee table as she undid his buttons. 

Jon cupped her ass, and the way he pulled her closer made her moan softly in his ear. 

“You wore this for me, sweet girl?” Jon purred. He skimmed his fingers up her thigh. “Thought about me when you put it on?” 

Sansa’s legs were trembling. She tugged him down to the sofa. She was thankful for the soft, plush surface as Jon joined her. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, and she twined her arms around his shoulders. 

“Yes, Jon, yes,  _god_ –“ She couldn’t talk, couldn’t think when he dipped his hand underneath the lace top and pinched her nipple between his fingers. 

“Were you waiting for me to come home to you?” He was fumbling with his belt buckle. “Tell me, darling.”

She felt a shiver all the way down to her toes. His hot gaze coaxed an answer from her. “I was, Jon.” She whined as he rolled her panties off. “I needed you.”

He groaned. “Fuck, Sansa, I would have run every red light if I’d known.” 

She let out a shaky laugh.  "I wouldn’t want you to get a ticket... _ohhh_.”

He slid his hand up higher. “Don’t care. Would have been worth it.” He kissed her again, nipping at the seam of her lips. When she opened her mouth to him he took advantage, and their tongues danced. She’d been afraid to try this, afraid to make herself vulnerable, but now – now she was so glad she had.

He sucked in a breath when he found the warmth and wetness between her legs. “God, you’re gorgeous like this.” She was intoxicated by his closeness, by the heat rolling off him in waves. She reached down and felt him hard in her hand.

He surged into her touch, and his knees sunk into the cushions as he loomed over her. They were both half in, half out of their clothes, panting.

“Sansa. Darling. Look at me.” Jon’s voice was husky. The sun was setting, and the light through the windows of their apartment tinged his black curls with red. Jon had always been a reverent, attentive lover, but this moment felt more intense, as if it was bigger than both of them.  He entered her slowly, much more slowly that she expected for how fevered they both were. 

“Jon, please–“ The pace he set was torturous and sublime all at once. 

“Hush, sweet girl. I want to savor this. Savor you. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” He rested his forehead on hers. He was filling her, stretching her, and she arched up into him.

He caught her mouth in another urgent, deep kiss. She could see him struggle for control, and she adored him for how careful he was with her. “Sansa, I’ve never been brave enough to tell you but...I love you. I need you to know it. I love you.” He was hoarse, and there were tears in her eyes.

She’d yearned for this confession, imagined it many different ways. But here, on this ordinary weeknight as he rocked into her, it felt exactly right – exactly how it was supposed to be.

She set the one last worry in her heart free as she touched his cheek. “I love you too, Jon.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his as he picked up the pace. He snuck a hand between them, rubbing light circles that had her gasping his name. He knew her body so well, so intimately. He’d learned it tenderly, thoroughly, like an undiscovered country, night after night, and now it was only a matter of minutes before she was on the cusp. Jon’s rhythm started to stutter, and she knew he was close, too. She wanted them to come together. She wrapped her legs around him, taking him deeper. The tension was building, cresting, and suddenly she shattered underneath him. Jon let out a guttural cry as he came. She couldn’t say where he started and she stopped, as an endless white-hot wave of pleasure coursed through her.

***

The next morning they woke on the couch as the sun rose. Sansa’s head was on Jon’s chest, and she was pretty sure one of her legs had fallen asleep. It was hot in the small apartment.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Jon smiled at her, and the crinkles around his eyes made her heart flutter.

“Morning Jon.” She traced his lips, and tried out the words again. She needed to reassure herself last night hadn’t been a dream. “I – I love you.”

He cupped her face gently, sweeping his thumb over her cheekbone. “I love you too, sweet girl. Love you so much.” She tucked her head under his chin, feeling his stubble scratch her forehead. She felt safe and secure in his arms.

“What made you tell me?” She was languid and sleepy, and brimming with happiness.

“I’ve always worried that wasn’t good enough for you, love. That you deserved someone better.” He shushed her protests. “But then there you were, waiting for me, biting your lip in our living room. You’d worn something special just for me, and I realized I was an idiot, to let one more day go by where I didn’t tell you how I felt.”

She snuggled closer to him. “I was scared about wearing it. I know you said you didn’t like costumes and plot lines.”

“Said I didn’t need them, love. It wouldn’t have mattered what you were wearing. The idea that you were thinking about me, wanting me to come home – that pushed me over the edge. Made me forget my fear. Helped me be brave, for once.”

She had to tease him a little. "So costumes and plot lines are all right?

Jon laughed. “Any costume or plot line you want, love, as long as I get to share it with you. Will you let me do that?” His eyes were soft, and earnest.

She planted a kiss on his soft, dark curls, overcome. “Yes. Yes, I will, Jon.” She would, every day of her life, though she wasn’t quite ready to tell him that yet.

 


End file.
